Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Gambia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Black Bananas to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by the Slits. All the underground hits.
All Archie Shepp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Mojo Men,
Smog,
Masters at Work,
The Index,
The Velvet Underground,
The Flesh Eaters,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bush Tetras,
Deadbeat,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Brothers Johnson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Susan Cadogan,
Funky Four + One,
Cybotron,
Nas,
Reuben Wilson,
The Walker Brothers,
Matthew Halsall,
Jandek,
The Angels of Light,
kango's stein massive,
In Retrospect,
the Normal,
Dead Boys,
Kaleidoscope,
Blake Baxter,
Kevin Saunderson,
Tommy Roe,
Section 25,
Roy Ayers,
Thee Headcoats,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Au Pairs,
Easy Going,
EPMD,
F. McDonald,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ronnie Foster,
The Seeds,
The Evens,
Gil Scott Heron,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Motions,
The Gap Band,
The Star Department,
Bobby Sherman,
Sound Behaviour,
Slick Rick,
Q and Not U,
Jeff Lynne,
Little Man,
Leonard Cohen,
X-101,
Glenn Branca,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.